Makeup Clown
by PandaFire McMango
Summary: After Collins says something bad about makeup, Angel uses it for revenge...yeah! oneshot, short, rated for langauage!


"Baby, what are you doing in there? It's been about an hour!"

"Just working with some makeup, honey. You know, new combinations and all that!"

"How long can makeup take, Ang? Seriously, if were you I would forget it! Makeup's really just a waste of time!"

Angel's head poked out of the bathroom, eyelids covered in something green and bluish. She glared at Collins, who was standing outside the door, tapping his foot.

"Finally!" He started for the door, but she held it close, still frowning at him.

"What? Angel, what did I do?"

"Tom Collins, insulting my ideas or my morals would be one thing, but insulting my makeup is crossing the line! Makeup is _not_ a waste of time! Everyone needs it, but only the smart people use it!" She pulled her head back and closed the door, and Collins could hear the clink of makeup containers.

"Aw, Angel, come on! I've seen you without makeup before and you look great! And I'm a professor, ipso facto I must be smart, and do you see me wearing makeup?"

"It's a gift!" came from the bathroom. Collins threw up his hands and went into the bedroom. If he couldn't shower, there was just time for a little nap before they went to the loft that night. Arguing with Angel always gave him a headache anyway.

Collins lay asleep, dreaming of Angel and merry go rounds and toasters. Something feathery brushed his face, and something sticky rubbed against his skin, but it didn't wake him. Another something touched his eyelashes, but he only mumbled and flicked his finger. Things kept touching his face and his hands, but nothing woke him. He slept _really_ well.

Finally, Collins was roused by a firm hand on his shoulder. It shook him, and he slowly opened his eyes to Angel's grinning face above him, her short black wig tickling his face.

"Wake up, baby, we're gonna be late! And you know we still have to buy that Stoli Maureen and Roger wanted." Collins blinked a few times and got up, stretching. His face felt heavier somehow, like he had been asleep for hours. Still, he dismissed the feeling and, taking Angel's hand, walked out of the apartment.

Obviously, their fight from before was forgotten, because Angel chattered and laughed and kissed him lightly all the way to the loft. She waved away the looks people gave them (strangely, there were a lot more than usual) and offered to carry the Stoli for him. Collins didn't know where this good mood came from, but he liked it.

"Hey, everyone!" Angel squealed, running up the final steps to the door of the loft. Collins saw two brown arms grab her and pull her inside, so he knew Mimi must be there. Ascending the last set of stairs, Collins walked into the loft, cradling the Stoli carefully.

"Hey, guess who brought the necessities of life?"

"Oh, hey Coll—" Mimi, who had been hugging Angel, started to greet Collins but froze, a look of horror slowly coming onto her face. Roger, who was lounging on the couch with his guitar, had a similar expression. Collins looked at Angel questioningly, but she just shrugged.

"Uh, Mimi, Roger, you guys ok?"

"Oh. My. God. Collins, what did you _do_?" Mimi said, looking scared to death. Roger suddenly burst into hysterical laughter, pointing at Collins with one finger. The rocker fell to the ground, banging it with one fist. Collins stared at him, wondering if Roger was high.

"Mimi, is he ok?" Collins started to move towards Roger, but Mimi blocked him. Her face was quivering with something between amusement and terror.

"Collins, what the hell possessed you to do something like that?"

"Mimi, what are you talking about? What did I do?" Collins found himself asking the same question twice in one day. Angel, smiling strangely, sat down primly on the couch, stepping away from Roger, who was still spasming in hysterics.

"Uh, well—" Mimi started to say, but the thunder of approaching footsteps made her pause. The door flew open and Maureen pranced in, followed by a grinning Joanne and a flushed Mark.

"Hey, everyone! You'll never guess what—" Maureen froze just as Mimi had, her face twisting into the same tortured look. Joanne and Mark stared at Collins too, ignoring Roger's laughing and Angel on the couch.

"Dear god, Collins, did you get seriously drunk or something?" Maureen looked at him warily, like he was dangerous.

"What the fuck is going on here? Will someone just tell me what's so wrong!" Collins yelled, throwing his arms out to the side. Mimi reluctantly took his elbow and led him down the stairs to her apartment, shaking her head. Once he was gone, Maureen whirled around to face Angel.

"Girl, did you do that to him?"

"Me? Why would I have anything to do with—" Angel's innocent act was cut short by a shriek of horror from Mimi's apartment. A stream of curses that made Joanne cover her ears followed, and they could hear Collins running up the steps. He burst into the loft, breathing heavily.

"_Why did none of you tell me that this was on my face!_" he wailed, pointing to his makeup-covered face. Heavy orange eye shadow settled on his eyelids, and light blue eyeliner shaped his eyes. Dark purple lipstick was smeared on his lips and his cheeks were mats of blush. There was even body glitter on his nose and cheekbones, and his eyelashes were teased out and coated in mascara. On both hands, the fingernails were painted a pleasing, pale pink color. Collins looked, in short, like a clown.

"Angel, please tell me that I didn't walk through New York City looking like this," he pleaded, using his sleeve to wipe glitter and blush off.

"Sorry, hon, but I'm afraid you did." The drag queen's smile suddenly made sense to Collins, and he put his head in his hands, smearing lipstick and mascara onto his palms.

"Angel, doing _this_ to me is going pretty far for revenge. Oh my god, I can't believe this. If anyone from NYU saw me…" he flopped onto the couch and accepted a tissue from Joanne, using it to wipe his mouth and cheeks. Glaring at Roger, who was still on the floor, he began to clean his eyelids, fumbling with the tissue. Angel leaned over to help him, but he pushed her away and continued to get eye shadow everywhere.

"Aw, honey, don't be mad, it was just a joke. And after all, I couldn't let what you said slide without doing _something_. Now here, let me help." And Angel, taking the tissue from him, began to gently remove mascara from his lashes. Everyone else in the room was staring at them, Joanne's mouth slightly open and Mark's head shaking. Mimi and Maureen just looked stunned, and Roger was clutching his side, winding down from his fit of laughter. Angel and Collins. Would anyone _ever_ be able to figure them out?

**heyheyhey! not stolen from other things, i just love makeup stories! and yay, my documents thingy finally lett mi update!**


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